Fable: The Hero of Bowerstone
by Post Baily
Summary: All places, characters, events, images and even dialogue belongs to Lionhead Studios. The Hero of Bowerstone is a literary undertaking of mine to put the world of Albion into words. Reviews, support and comments are greatly appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

COLD FORTUNE

Once, the lands of Albion were filled with wild things. Its many forests were lush and countless and came with a guarantee that some of those who wandered too far off the path would never come back. Humanity gathered in tight communities that dotted the land and burned silver nitrate at the gates to keep the terrible beasts with claws and teeth at bay.  
It was a world of mystery and ancient magic that bled through every crevice and brook. The rise and fall of an archaic race is written in every part of the land, read in the stones of broken ruins that grow untamed bramble and oak.

There were few who could traverse the wild country unharmed but they existed. Only shadowed rumors accounted for their heritage. Some said the bloodline of the Ancients ran through their veins, granting them abilities beyond those of a mere mortal and without them humanity would have found itself on the short end of extinction.

The blessed few sons and daughters of Albion gathered to learn their skills at the greatest academy ever imagined. To be considered a student of the Heroes' Guild was a guarantee of strength, speed and command over the ever mysterious Will which was domination over the elements and stuff that made up time and space.

They tamed the wild nature of Albion, with sword, arrow and Will and became legends among men. At the very height of the age of Heroes there was rumor of a Hero so powerful the terrible immortal destroyer Jack of Blades fell by his hand and the world trembled under their battle.

This is Albion under the weight of time; the land has been worn with the progress of man, cities abound where there were only towns and now it is a topographical patchwork where the march of innovation and the dug-in heels of tradition live side by side.  
Only the few still-wild places carry danger to the unwary; the deep overrun forests that hide creatures of a dark nature, the forgotten temple ruins that have long since lost their name and purpose and the places touched by magic so ancient and powerful no man's hand may tame it.

Progress marched forward and bloodshed followed. The people rose up against the Heroes, driven by fear and paranoia with the proclamation that Albion had no more need of them. The Guild fell, the Heroes dispersed, some slaughtered, some blending into the background of normalcy. An age passed, legends became stories and Heroes were forgotten.

Now we are in Modern times and dark events are on the horizon. Where are the Heroes now?

In the bustling streets of Bowerstone life marched over worn cobblestones and hammered out a beat that defied the harshness of the world that surrounded it. It wasn't a bad life; most of the inhabitants of that sprawling ancient city had lived in those primeval walls for countless generations and were satisfied at playing cosmopolitan to the rougher, smaller provinces of Albion. When life had a bakery, tavern and black smith all in one conveniently located area one did not wonder what lay outside the stone fortifications that guarded the city. Outside lay uncertainty; of bandits and rogues, unnatural and vicious creatures and adventure. Bowerstonians held their noses up at such ridiculous notions.

Less fortunate citizens find themselves in an equally dangerous and not-so-cosmopolitan district of Bowerstone Old Town that lay at the base of Castle Fairfax. That massive structure was of improbable proportions and it cast an almost permanent shadow over the oldest and most debilitated area of Bowerstone. Here are the cast-offs of humanity; the poor, the criminal, the mad.

It is in a relatively quiet and clean corner of Old Town where two children huddle over a single brazier, desperate for warmth on a cold winter's day. Both girls are pitiably young and alone; it has been a terrible few years losing both parents and home and all certainty. Rose is the eldest. She remembers best the small farm cottage and idyllic life in a country setting. She is doing what she can with ragged clothing and little food and an entire winter to endure and provide for a younger sibling. Beside her is Sparrow. It wasn't the name her parents had given her but she barely remembers them and Rose has been mother, father and provider so Sparrow she gladly answers to.

Surviving life in the roughest part of the city had been an education that taught hands to be quick and unseen and sharpened eyes to see danger approaching. Rose had already witnessed what happened to children who weren't as lucky and knew all it took was a single mistake. People whispered folklore that outside the walls it was malevolent spirits who took children and turned them into the ugly, unnatural hobbes that attacked unwary travelers but inside the gates Rose knew the greatest danger was her fellow human being.

Time wasn't on her side; she was soon leaving behind childhood, her body already budding small breasts and rounded hips that would shortly force her to make a terrible choice. Two years living in squalor and destitution left no doubts about the reality of being female and powerless.  
She might not have cared so much, would have been glad to take to open roads and join the tinkerers and merchants who traveled Albion if had not been for one precious reason.

She glanced fondly at the bird-frail thin figure of Sparrow who scowled as she rubbed her hands vigorously over the fire, dark eyes brightly reflected in the flames. Sparrow had adjusted to the life of a street urchin with far greater ease than Rose. Her short russet hair pushed back into a messy tail, Sparrow wore the bright ragged pieces of clothing like a heathen warrior or vagabond gypsy. The small girl had even recently taken to wearing a wooden sword and pea-shooting replica of the latest repeating firearm they had occasion to see fine gentlemen wearing in Bowerstone Square. Rose didn't ask how Sparrow came across those items; honor and morality became harder when survival was in question.

Rose clung to the teachings of her father, a bear of a man who scraped a living off the flat hills that lay far outside Bowerstone. He had been a good-natured and brash man who was a favorite at the tavern because of his willingness to share coin for those in need and for his gentle strength that ended brawls before the furniture suffered.

He had ingrained a sense of justice in Rose, had been fair minded and calm as her mother was sharp tongued and hot tempered. The circumstance under their deaths was murky; one night a traveling trader on friendly terms with the family had simply gathered Rose and Sparrow from their tiny cottage and whisked them away. Rose remembers watching the glow of the fire of the family cottage, could see the smoke rise into the breaking dawn as they entered the gates of Bowerstone.

Rose sighed and looked up, reluctant to return to cold reality. Castle Fairfax was dusted with a layer of snow making it beautiful as a picture. The newly fallen snow laid the entire city in a temporary pristine blanket of white. She turned to her sister.

"Look, little Sparrow; Castle Fairfax looks so nice in the snow. Imagine the grand dining hall! I bet Lord Lucien's having roast duck this time of year-"

"Instead of old potatoes an' stale bread?", came a grumbled response. Rose ignored the tone and went on, " but he must be pretty lonely now that his wife and little girl died. All alone…in that great big castle. I wish we could live there."

Sparrow gazed up at Rose wisely not saying anything. Rose hadn't lost the ability to dream just as Sparrow had already learned hard-headed pragmatism. She didn't mind; when it came her turn she bet she could fend off unwanted attention pretty well with that wooden sword. She already had given Freddy the Fingers something to think about when she stuck it in his unmentionables the other day for calling Rose a two-bit gutter-snipe. Sparrow didn't actually know what that meant but the look of red-faced humiliation on Rose's face had been enough for her to dole out punishment.

The sound of jeering and cheers broke over the silence of Rose's daydreaming and the crackling of the fire.

"_What_ is going on over there?" , she wondered aloud. The temptation of diversion was too much to contain and Rose turned to Sparrow with a grin.

"Come with me, Sis!"

As with any good Bowerstone city dweller the promise of an amusing distraction, whether a legitimate puppet theatre or watching the bar keep toss drunks into the gutter, gathered both children and adults to watch.

Sparrow raced after her longer-legged sister, happy to be thinking of something other than cold and hunger.

She jumped over carelessly thrown debris and dodged crates and water barrels through high walled alley ways. The city had been thrown together like a crazy quilt of architecture. Decades and centuries of adding on, shoring up and use of creative material had turned the oldest part of Bowerstone into a maze of alley ways, multi-storied homes and convenient hidey holes that made it so popular for the criminal class.

Sparrow grinned with home-advantage pride of knowing nearly all of them.

They had just about found the source of the noise when Rose's abrupt stop caused Sparrow to run into her and almost fall over. Words that would have gotten her mouth washed out hovered on her lips as she looked up to see an oily figure glide out of the shadows.

No citizen of Old Town could walk the street without knowing the name Nicky 'the Nickname' Chalmers. For all the terrible skill he had at epitaphs he made up for in rodent viciousness and innate ability to have all the Bowerstone criminals under his thumb. And here stood his right arm, Arfur; all slouched wickedness, bad fashion sense and opportunistic malice.  
He put a shoulder against brick wall and hitched what he thought to be an inviting smile on his unshaved, dirty face.

" 'Ello, Rose. You look…hungry. Thought about my offer?", he leered, dark eyes narrow and eager.

Sparrow could see the line of tension in her sister's face and felt her hackles rise at words left unsaid. Arfur's gaze was hungry in a way that reminded her of a drunkard eyeing the last drop of ale and it brought forth a terrible desire to wreak violence on his person.

Rose straightened her back and pushed Sparrow behind her, knowing her well-intentioned little sister would be stupid, or brave, enough to try and stick her wooden sword somewhere objectionable.

"We'll never be that hungry," she said flatly "the answer is no."

Arfur's greasy smile slid off his face as his jowls darkened with anger. "You'll be back," he hissed "and I'll be _waitin'_ for ya."

Rose grabbed Sparrow by the wrist and stiffly marched past Arfur without looking at him while darkly muttering to herself, "That filthy creep. I _hate_ him." She didn't need him to tell her options were running out and starvation a real possibility.

Sparrow trotted alongside her and said breathlessly, "You should've let me-"

"No!"

"But I could've-"

"Forget it, little Sparrow. Let me handle it." Desperate for a distraction Rose cajoled, "Come on, let's see what's going on."

Outside the stone gateway that sectioned off Old Town from the brighter, cleaner Bowerstone was a small plaza where a few dozen people crowded next a brightly painted caravan. The side had been opened to reveal a jumble of objects, large and small. A wooden sign hung crookedly that read MYSTICAL MURGO. Like the worn merchandise and once bright sign that advertised his goods Murgo was slightly frayed around the edges; stout and rounded with patchy clothing and a balding top hat set at a jaunty angle.  
It wasn't that he was dishonest, just honestly interested in money and without many qualms about getting said money. And like most of the well-traveled traders he knew salesmanship was a matter of showmanship. His voice boomed over the crowd.

"Step UP, step UP! Gather 'round for the sale of the century! Objects from near and far for a mere five gold!" Here he made a swooping bow and grabbed a dirty linen sheet off of a tall flat object revealing a dressing mirror.

"Ladies and Gentleman! Consider this: this is _truly_ a magical mirror –" his voice dropped to a hushed whisper, "for as long as you look into it, it will make you beautiful!_ Restrictions apply, third parties cannot hold first parties responsible for any and all emotional anguish, loss of hearing, baldness and/or sudden acid reflux. All sells final, no refunds_. All for the low, low price of five gold! Going once! Going twi-"

"I'll take it!"

"_SOLD_! To the kind chap in the front! Very wise, sir, very wise. Now remember, it only works in total darkness."

Rose and Sparrow struggled to see the merchant's wares through a sea of heavily bundled bodies.

"I can't see anything past this lot!" complained Rose.

Sparrow drew her wooden sword and looked at Rose with wide innocent looking eyes. Her sister grinned wickedly.

"Yeah, all right. Get us a little closer!"

Murgo continued the sale of the century, ignoring the small sudden commotion and startled yelps from the crowd. He picked up a small angular object.

"Ahhh… now _this_ is truly a marvel; this small unassuming box is _actually_ a device created by the Ancients! As used by the Old Kingdom rulers themselves!"

Sparrow watched, hypnotized, as Murgo held the tarnished metal box up to the midday light. It wasn't much to look at; more of a hexagon than a box, discolored and worn with obvious age. Murgo's voice bounced from one end of her head to the other. The Old Kingdom!

Sparrow looked up to see Rose's face mirror her own feelings; skepticism that warred with the desire to _believe_.

The Old Kingdom meant magic and Heroes! Bedtime stories and fractured tales of people who once lived in Albion who could do amazing things; giants of men who could swing a twenty stone sword without effort, the Will users who could bend the very elements of nature, sharpshooters who could split an arrow 500 yards away! It was the Heroes that had kept the darker nature of Albion at bay, extraordinary people who had all but been forgotten. The adventurers that made headlines today were but thinned shadows of their past counterparts.

Sparrow swallowed and hung onto Murgo's every word.

"Simply turn this hand three times and you shall be granted a single wish! Restrictions apply, void where necessary, all sells final, no refunds."

The crowd murmured but no money was offered up. Shrugging Murgo moved to the next object.

"Look what we have here! This tasty little object…"

Rose and Sparrow had already turned away as had some of the crowd, chuckling in disbelief.

"There's no such thing as magic!" said Rose reluctantly.

"We live in grim times indeed if the young are too world-weary to believe in magic. What a pity, most children your age believe eagerly."

Sparrow and Rose both jumped as a low and melodious voice answered Rose. The woman who had melted away from the crowd like a wraith stood near the two sisters. Sparrow gaped at her as she was unlike anyone she had ever seen in Old Town.

She was neither young nor old. She wore shabby and patch-worked scarlet clothing and yet she moved with the grace of a queen. Gold bangles and jewelry chimed softly as she came towards them. The woman's head was mostly in shadow as she had a hood pulled over to cover most of her features. As Sparrow studied her unabashedly she felt a little jolt of horror as she realized the woman's eyes bore terrible scars and had long since been sewn shut.

Rose answered her hesitatingly, "Look, I can see your eyes are bad but I'm telling you that music box is rubbish! Nothing but a rusted piece of junk!"

"That's what the seller thinks. He has no idea what he has stumbled upon but _you_ have an inkling, don't you? Some part of you wants to believe its magic."

Rose was silent as emotion struggled over her face. "Wha- you really think it could be…?"

The strange woman turned and slowly started to walk away, answering, _baiting_, over her shoulder, "For five gold pieces you could have your answer."

"For five gold pieces we could eat for week!" Rose answered tartly.

The woman stopped and turned. Sparrow could _feel_ the presence of the woman, like the weight of a stone over stretched parchment. The burden of her regard was like a pressure that couldn't be ignored; demanding, cold and heavy. The mystery woman was like no one Sparrow had ever met before.

"_Listen to me, Rose_, at the end of that week you and your little Sparrow would be no closer to your dream, no closer to the inside of that beautiful castle… of course, if a life selling that which you least wish to part with interests you, so be it." and just as mysteriously as she had come the woman vanished into one of the numerous alley ways leaving behind a wake of stunned silence.

"How did she know…?" Rose murmured.

"I think we should do it." stated Sparrow.

Rose didn't answer right away as she took in Sparrow's look of resolution. The strange woman had managed, in the space of mere moments, to nail all of her hopes and fears.  
Fear that time was running out, that as crazy as it sounded this might be a ticket out of a life of poverty and misery.  
There was no denying the cutting terror that Rose was walking the fine edge of a knife, that in this pivotal moment her decision would decide _both_ of their fates and the choices that lay before her were not very good ones. She knew desperation made a poor companion for making important life choices but if there was even the _slightest_ chance…

She was also certain that somewhere she had heard trusting strange and cloaked women who spouted enigmatic advice concerning magic boxes and wishes should be something to be cautious about.

Rose looked at the trusting and unflinching face of her sister as the face of Arfur floated up in her mind's eye and she repressed a shudder.

"I bet we _could_ get five gold pieces …" she slowly said. Sparrow's mouth stretched into a wicked grin and Rose felt herself unwillingly smile in return.

"And maybe this could be a way out of here, after all! C'mon, little Sparrow! There must be some way we can earn that money."

Rose and Sparrow, hand in hand, turned and raced towards what passed for the district market of Old Town, braced with that most terrible of human emotion; hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Chores for Charity

Being an Old Town guard was a dubious profession but third generation Bowerstonian watchman Derek firmly held the belief in his heart that hard work (_his_ hard work) would someday make a difference in this downtrodden metropolis. As a watchman he had spent a good portion of his life patrolling the streets and knew the decency underneath the corruption that refused to be stamped out. He saw a beauty in this part of the city that kept him going even when surrounded by what most people would consider a hopeless cause.

Even the prominent Lord Lucien had a hand in the ongoing effort to clean up Bowerstone Old Town; just as recent as that morning he had expedited the arrest of five of Old Town's most notorious crooks. Which was why he was so desperately pounding the streets near the market district at this very moment; by whatever wicked twist of fate as he had made his way to post the warrants a sudden gust had ripped them from his hands and sent them tumbling down alley ways and far out of his reach. To make matters worse he was on duty and leaving his post would be a direct dereliction of responsibility to the guard.  
Derek paced agitatedly in the small confines of Canonway Alley, weighing the pros and cons when two familiar small forms rounded the corner.  
Perfect! Fair Rose and little Sparrow were regular street urchins who did small odd jobs for fair pay for folk as could pay. Decent children, both of them; pity about their situation but there were plenty of kiddies living on the street. It was something Derek was determined to see change someday. But in the meanwhile…

"Kids!" he waved an arm, "C'mere a moment!"

They obediently trotted towards him. Rose gazed up at Derek's scruffy worried face with an impish smile of humor towards his obvious distress.

"What is it, Derek? Lose something?"

Sparrow stood on the other side, her sister's constant silent shadow. There was something a little wild in her young face, Derek always felt. As though the untamed, feral streets of Old Town resonated with her small, wiry frame. If he was any judge, and he _had_ a long life of seeing all faces of humanity, little Sparrow would grow up to be quite a handful. Rose seemed to balance out that feral nature with good-humored patient love.

"I Have a small job for you, if you like. Was walking me route when my arrest warrants blew right outta my hands! Important papers, those were. Could mean the end of some pretty bad characters. Be good little kiddies and go hunt them down, would you? Might even be something in for you."

"What sort of 'something'?" Rose asked, all deceptive innocence.

"Weeelll, I could give you the title of Junior Deputy and leftovers from the missus'. Even a bit o' lemon custard in there."

"Huh. Never liked lemons much. If these papers are that important I think my sister and me need better motivation."

Derek squirmed. Little miscreants knew they had him by the short hairs. Sparrow's wide-eyed stare took on a more intent gaze of fierceness; as though she was daring him to pull the other leg just to see where she would stick that wooden sword of hers.

"All right, a bloody farthing and what's in me lunch!"

"It'll be a gold piece and you can keep what's in the lunch."

"A gold piece-!?" Derek stopped short at the look of determination on both of their dirty little faces and felt a stab of pity. Well, with a gold piece they could buy some decent food for once. Besides, the day was getting on and he didn't want to spend a cold evening stamping around the back alleys. He let out a sigh.

"Fair enough, young Rose. You two get me my warrants by the end of the day and there will be a gold piece in it for you."

Both the girl's faces lit up.

"No problem, Derek. Leave it to us, we'll find them!"

"See that you do. They were blown off in that direction; towards that chap with the picture box."

Rose grinned to herself as she and Sparrow walked towards the direction Derek the guard had pointed them. This was a sign from Fate! They could do this! They could scrounge up five gold coins and make a gamble on the future.

There was another crowd as Sparrow and Rose neared the direction Derek had pointed them in. This one mainly consisted of hecklers; it was looking as though the poor fellow in the middle of the mob was about to get a vegetable and egg baptism.

"Whatta con!"

"Show us the picture!"

"Burn him!"

The man in the middle was a mild-looking individual with a face like an amiable hound dog and an old, worn cap that slumped over the side of his head. He held his contraption between himself and the crowd as though to ward away the negativity.

"Astonish your friends with a life-like image- whoop!"

He ducked as a rotten head of cabbage nearly hit him in the head.

"Really now! All I need is a volunteer; one click of a button and your image is transfiddled onto magic paper. A real-to-life image for you to share with friends and family!"

Desperation was starting to creep into his voice.

"Er. Doesn't _anyone_ want to give it a go? Just strike a pose in front of the box!"

A high-pitched voice answered over the continued jeering.

"I do."

Sparrow grinned up into the man's face as he looked down in surprise at the sudden appearance of what seemed to be a street urchin. He grinned in return.

"Well done, my little friend! The name's Barnum and this here contraption is going to be more popular than the pox, I can tell you!"

Rose edged her way through the spectators to stand by Sparrow and said,

"Nobody wants to pose for you?"

Barnum adjusted his hat with embarrassment. "Weeell, folks seem to think either it's dark magic or I'm lying to them just cuz' the results take three months to developmorgphy."

Rose gave him a thoughtful look. "We'll do it." Barnum's face lit up. "For a gold piece." And promptly fell.

"Hmmm. I'm down to me last gold coin as it is. But what's a business without risk? All right, young ladies! Step up here and strike a pose; you'll be _betwaddled_ by the results!"

"Be-what?"

Barnum grinned as he busied himself with the box on three wooden legs. "I'm not always going to be scraping for scraps; I'm improving me language! Bought a vocabularium book from that bloke Murgo and its working wonders! All right, ready? And, pose!"

Walking away from the odd man with the wooden box Rose grinned and slipped the gold coin into a pocket. She wished the best for Barnum (who had said as they had walked away, "You've made a friend out of old Barnum, and I don't forgets my friends!") but somehow felt that someone with such strange ideas would never make it in Bowerstone.

High and low, through snow drift and garbage the girls did search for the warrants. One had found its way into the magpie like collection of odds and ends of an old vagrant, snoring away in a drunken stupor as Sparrow carefully slid the sheet out from underneath him. Apparently he had been using it as a makeshift bedding.

Another warrant had been found near a feuding couple and backstreet diplomacy was employed by Rose as she simultaneously talked the wife out of braining her husband with the wine bottle he seemed to be unable to stop drinking from.

Some hours later found them with all the warrants but one and the sun making its way behind the buildings. It had been a laborious afternoon that had gotten them a total of four gold coins. Hard earned money at that; wrangling drunks and deals with fishwives and a letter delivery from a young man to his lover right underneath the girl's mother who was a terrifying shrew that had found out the plot and chased the two girls with a broom a full five blocks before she gave up.

Rose and Sparrow now found themselves close to where they began, only a few blocks from Murgo and Derek and not much time before shops closed and the sun set.

"What about down by the docks?" asked Rose.

"Nah, don't think they'd be down in that direction. Warehouse district?"

"We already looked there, _twice_."

Both girls were silent as both hoped a solution would present itself. A distant noise was becoming louder over the sounds of the city.

"Bakery?"

"No, Sparrow. You only want to go there to scrounge for leftovers. This is important!"

"So's my stomach!"

"What's that noise?" said Rose distractedly.

"Um, sounds like a dog barking, what about it?"

Several other street urchins raced by the two girls and Rose reached out and snagged a dirty sleeve.

"Hey, what's that racket?"

Whether the child was a male or female it could not be discerned though layers of dirt and ragged clothing and a body so skinny 'rail thin' would have been an understatement but it looked out with bright sharp eyes and answered, "Rex caught himself a dog and he's gonna kick the crap outta it! Come and see!"

Then raced off towards the sounds of increasingly distressed canine.

Rose bit her lip and looked at Sparrow. Rex was one of the many up and coming thugs the streets of Old Town produced that had fun social skills like stealing from little old ladies and abusing anything smaller and weaker than himself.

"Oh, dammit. Come on, we have to do something!"

Sparrow grinned and ran after Rose. This is why the street was bearable for Sparrow; Rose stood above others and went beyond duty. While most wouldn't look twice at some young thug tormenting a stray animal Rose _did _something about it. Without thinking about consequences which was another reason Sparrow 'picked up' her wooden sword and gun. Someday she was going learn how to use them properly so Rose didn't have anything to worry about when she wanted to come to the rescue. She'd always have Sparrow at her back.

Rex had the poor beast cornered behind some crates and the wall of an alley. The dog would have been a decent size if it had been fed properly. It was all mottled brown and tan fur, skin and bone and curled into a miserable ball, yelping and whining as the boy brought down a stick on its hindquarters.

Rose burst onto the scene before he had a chance to raise the stick again.

"What the _HELL_ do you think you're doing!?"

She stood aggressively towards Rex; they were almost the same height. He sauntered towards her, young enough to be gangly but still a few years older and still stronger even if they were near the same size.

"Havin' a bit o' fun. What's it to YOU?"

In a swift vicious move he brought down his admittedly overlarge forehead and cracked it against Rose's. Shocked silence reigned as the onlookers stared at Rose's crumpled, unconscious form.

It happened so quickly Sparrow had only just found Rose before Rex had hit her. She could only stare in shock, the sound of her heartbeat rushing through her ears drowned out everything else as she felt her body jerk towards her fallen sister and the aggressive stance of Rex. Dimly she heard,

"He hit a girl!"

Rex eyed Sparrow with amused malice; this pipsqueak was trying to give _him_ the evil eye. He had to be somewhat impressed though, she was half his size and looked like she weighed less than that mongrel he had been poking with a stick and she was about to try and take him on. Well, she'd learn quick enough what's what.

"Yeah, and now I'm about to hit another one!"

He wasn't really sure what happened next; one moment he was standing, _towering_ over this little girl ready to give her a good belt across the head when something about her …_changed_. She took out that stupid little toy sword and suddenly he found himself losing ground. She moved like a blur and cracked the wrist that had been holding his stick and through the astonishing and sudden pain he dropped it. _I think she bloody broke my wrist_! he thought in disbelief and viciously lashed out a booted foot at her gut and _missed_! Then she was right next to him and swung the sword down in an arc and brought it right into his gut, breath exploding in a painful whoosh.  
As Rex dropped to the ground gasping for air, his body a mass of throbbing pain, he did was most bullies do and threw up his arms in submission and started to cry.

"Stop it! Stop it, you nutter! What did I ever do to you!?"

There were astonished whispers amongst the children.

"_Blimey_! Did you see that!?"

"She just _walloped_ him!"

Sparrow stood next to Rose, breathing hard. She didn't even really remember moving, only felt that white hot rage and let her body move on its own. She only felt disgust and contempt as the older boy limped away crying to the delight of the street urchin onlookers. They jeered and kicked garbage after him. Rose stirred, grabbed her head and stood up a little shakily.

"Did you see that!? That lunatic socked me right in the head!"

"You're all right then? You went down like a sack of spuds." Sparrow said in typical little sibling fashion of needling the older.

"Ha ha. Thanks for your help. I could have taken him though!" Rose laid a hand on Sparrow's head and grinned.

A low whine interrupted them. The dog limped towards them wagging a tail tentatively.

"Oh, you poor thing. You've had a horrible time of it, haven't you?" said Rose tenderly as she held out a hand and the dog licked it.

"Rose! Lookit!" Sparrow said excitedly, pointing to where the dog had been crouching. There was the final warrant, a little dirty for being sat on by a dog but the final piece they needed to gather their reward from Derek.

Rose picked it up with jubilation and swung around. "I can't believe it! We did it! We made five gold in a single day!" Sparrow and Rose grabbed each other's hands and did a little dance as the dog barked excitedly.

"Let's go and find Derek, Sparrow!"

They had walked half a block before they realized the dog was still following them. Rose turned and crouched down.

"Now, look. We don't have enough to feed ourselves so we can't be worrying about you as well! Go on! Scat! Shoo!"

The dog gave them a lovingly vacant look and continued to wag his tail. Sparrow gazed at her sister with a knowing stare.

"Don't you start!" Rose said exasperated. She turned back to the dog.

"Shoo! Shoo… oh never mind. Fine, come on then. I guess we'll figure out something."

They walked through lengthened shadows with a mind full of promise and hope when a familiar oily voice called out to them from behind.

"Hey! Stop right there, you little brats! I've been looking for you all day."

Rose turned with an expression of someone who had been pushed too far in one day.

"Listen, creep, I told you no this morning-"

"Shut it, girl. This isn't about that. I want those warrants you're collecting. Nicky's been after em' since he heard they was lost."

Arfur circled them and blocked the exit to the alley, doing a much better job than Rex at aggressive slouching. He looked like a man with few choices left and was desperate enough to do anything to gain those chances.

The dog started to growl and Arfur's eyes flicked towards the mangy animal before dismissing it and turned back to Rose with an ugly expression.

"You think yer life has been difficult _now_? Cross me on this and see what happens."

Rose faltered a little at the desperate anger radiating off the man but held firm.

"Get out of the way, Arfur. We're taking these to the guard. "

"Come now, Rose" his voice wheedled "You want money? I can get you money. Can get you food, even. Hand em' over before there's trouble."

The dog was snarling and spitting now and Sparrow inched closer to Rose, having restrained herself towards Arfur enough for one day.

Rose took a deep breath. " I said NO!"

Arfur's face lost all false congeniality and lunged at Rose with a snarl. Two things happened in rapid succession; one, the dog lunged with greater speed and managed to get a booted foot and secondly, after Arfur was decently distracted by the dog attempting to gnaw through his ankle Sparrow took out the wooden sword and did what she had been wanting to do since she laid eyes on the filthy cretin.

"Wow, Sparrow." said Rose, staring at the fallen, groaning figure of Arfur clutching a very sensitive area. " I didn't know you had gotten so good with that thing. I don't think he'll walk straight for a week!"

Derek almost wept in relief when Rose and Sparrow reappeared just as twilight approached, beaming ear to ear, holding the missing warrants in one hand.

"Well done! _Well done_, Rose and Sparrow! Saved my bacon, you did! And here you are, one gold coin. Take care of yourselves now, you hear?"

"Thank you, Derek!" Rose waved as they wound their way toward the Old Town gates.

They found Murgo just as he was beginning to close shop. They approached him with no small amount of nervousness.

"Hello, children! Come for that music box you were looking at earlier? Still here, just five gold coins!"

Rose counted out the five coins carefully and put them into Murgo's outstretched large hand. His hand snapped shut over the gold like a carnivorous plant and boomed out, "Very wise, little ones! Very wise! Here you are – mind you turn the handle somewhere quiet like, eh?"

And then they were holding the box in their hands. Sparrow ran her fingers over the edges and nicks in the dull metal. It didn't feel like anything; just a cold metal box but her heart was racing just as she was sure Rose's was.

They looked at each other and Rose swallowed. "Take it home and do it there?"

Sparrow nodded solemnly.

In the dying light in the vast city of Bowerstone Old Town two children and a mangy dog walked through darkened alley ways and past crooked houses and broken cobblestone towards a ramshackle lean-to they called home. This day fate had offered them a choice and they had taken it into their own hands. Now all they had to do was open it to whatever future may lie ahead.


End file.
